


red-hot licks in the palm of my hand

by wariangle



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa is in the room furthest back, bent over the open hood of a beat-up Jeep, the width of her back evident with the way her arms are spread and braced against its sides, and the black skull tattoo strikingly dark over the edge of her tank top even against her sun-tanned and dirt-lined skin. That vision causes a whole different kind of heat to course through Angharad, the kind that pools out from the pit of her stomach and sweetly climbs up her spine to make her shiver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red-hot licks in the palm of my hand

The heat is an overpowering, almost palpable, thing that fills the air with the dry tang of overheated sand. Not even the feeble breeze caressing Angharad’s bare legs offer any kind of relief – it’s almost as warm as the still air. She sighs happily as she ducks into the auto-shop, where the temperature is a few grades lower thanks to the shade combined with the ACs blasting on full speed. As usual, the shop is filled with the hum of machinery and clatter of metal and tools, loud music and, underneath it, the sound of voices and laughter.

As Angharad reaches the counter where she’s sitting as if a queen surveying her scrap kingdom, Keeper looks up from where her oil-stained fingers are turning the pages of an account book – the rest of the crew has tried convincing her to go digital, but she steadfastly refuses – and says, “Hello, hun,” with a warm smile. “Furiosa’s down in the back.”

“Thanks.” Angharad places a large paper bag on the counter. “Sandwiches and iced tea from down the block,” she says. She peers down into the bag, grabs one of the takeaway-mugs, places it right in front of Keeper. “And black coffee for you. Extra-heated.”

Keeper accepts the hot cup and immediately takes a sip. She sighs in appreciation. “Remind Furiosa that Keeper says to do anything to keep you,” she says with a wink before turning to the back of the shop. “Hey – Val! Maadi! Jo! Angharad brought us food.”

“Sweet!” Maadi says, followed by the sound of a wrench being carelessly dropped on a workbench.

Angharad gives her a wave and a smile as she comes to claim her lunch, and dips into a room to the left. It’s warmer here and again the sweat starts to gather at her temples. She shoves her hand into the other paper bag and finds her own cup, filled to the brim with icy lemonade, and takes a long draw on the straw.

Furiosa is in the room furthest back, bent over the open hood of a beat-up Jeep, the width of her back evident with the way her arms are spread and braced against its sides, and the black skull tattoo strikingly dark over the edge of her tank top even against her sun-tanned and dirt-lined skin. That vision causes a whole different kind of heat to course through Angharad, the kind that pools out from the pit of her stomach and sweetly climbs up her spine to make her shiver.

They’ve already fucked once today, in the morning hours right before Furiosa had to get up and go to work, before it got unbearably warm between their sheets, Furiosa waking her with long, wet kisses against her shoulderblades, her neck and her throat, Angharad climbing on top of her, sinking down on the dick already strapped and ready between her legs, Furiosa’s mouth searing against her breasts and mouth, her hand firm and encouraging against her ass, as Angharad, slow and dirty, rode them both to an earth-shattering climax. The memory of it seems to run in her blood still, like the ghost of the blistering heat between them, the sound of their sweaty bodies sliding together, the taste of Furiosa’s skin, and the powerful feel of her between Angharad’s thighs.

“Hey,” she says and Furiosa turns her head, her hands still buried in the oily-black guts of the car.

“Hey,” Furiosa replies, a slow grin spreading across her face, and pulls her hands free off the car and slams the hood down. She grabs at the cloth she always carries in her back pocket, uses it to carelessly wipe them clean. She runs it across her shorn head too, adding to the grease and dirt already coated there. She leans toward Angharad to peck her on the lips, but Angharad grabs her shoulder, drags her closer, not caring about the stains that will inevitably end up on her white summer dress.

“You done studying?” Furiosa asks against her lips.

“For the moment.” She nips at Furiosa’s lower lip, tasting her smile, and deepens the kiss again, Furiosa’s arm sliding down her back and fitting into place around her waist.

She ends the kiss slowly, letting Angharad’s mouth gradually slip from her own, and noses behind her ear, blatantly breathing in her scent. It is so tender that Angharad aches with it, even as it does little to elevate the low-key arousal simmering low in her belly. Furiosa drives her crazy, always has, since the first time Angharad laid eyes on her. And it is still somewhat of a novelty, this, being with someone that makes her _wet_ , and actually being horny without having to be ashamed of it.

Furiosa feels it too, she knows, and that makes it even easier, somehow. She can glimpse it in her sometimes, when she looks at Angharad’s body and turns her gaze away too quickly, swallowing. Angharad had teased her once, in bed, asking outright why she hadn’t said or done anything about the undeniable tension between when they first met, when Angharad had been too scared to take the first step but had known her interest to be painfully, embarrassingly evident.

“Everyone ogled you,” Furiosa had said seriously, her eyes averted. “I didn’t want to be one of them.” That ‘everyone’ and ‘them’ meant men was evident.

Now, she kisses Angharad firmly one last time before stepping back and kicking the door shut while her hand go up to her prosthesis, effortlessly loosening the straps with a practiced movement. That thing easily gets sweaty and bothersome on hot days, Angharad knows.

Angharad hoists herself up on the hood of the car, spreads her legs to let Furiosa crowd up against her, her hand sliding along her thigh, up beneath the hem of her dress, leaving a black streak of oil on her skin. Tilting her head back, she lets Furiosa zero in on that spot on her neck that makes her sigh and grasp closely at the bulk of Furiosa’s shoulders, goosebumps chasing across her arms. Messily, Furiosa trails kisses along the thick tendon in her neck, down across her collarbones, tongue wet against the slope of her throat as she seeks out her mouth again, hand going up to cup Angharad’s breast through her dress.

Her sweaty thighs slide across the warm metal of the car’s hood, chafing slightly but not enough to really matter, not with Furiosa in her arms, their mouths locked together in a series of long, drawn-out kisses, Furiosa’s touch maddeningly teasing through the fabric of her dress. She shifts, underwear riding up against her slick, wanting cunt, and reaches a hand up, pulls down the straps of her dress far enough to reveal her breasts, a shivering droplet of sweat resting between them as she pulls in a heavy breath.

Grasping closely at her neck, Furiosa is still kissing Angharad firmly as she carefully presses her down until she is almost flat on top of the car. Her mouths drops down to the hollow of Angharad’s throat, leaving a brief, soft kiss there, tongue following along the line of one collarbone as if reading some secret hidden in the stretch of skin there.

Angharad has to bite down on her lip hard when Furiosa sucks a nipple into her mouth, her hand cupping it gently, thumb stroking in a crescent-shaped line against the soft skin. Sharp teeth close around her nipple, followed by a gentling kiss, and Angharad jerks, slamming her elbow against the hood. Furiosa laughs, deep and rumbling, and it makes Angharad shiver all over again.

“I’m so fucking wet,” she groans, hand raking across Furiosa’s rugged scalp, her chest pressing up against Furiosa’s mouth, back arching from pleasure. She wants to reach down between her legs, aching to put her fingers to her clit and just _come_ , relieve the arousal boiling through her body.

Furiosa just hums, using her arm to hold Angharad down as she moves to her other breast, tongue circling her hardened nipple and heating her flesh, making her groan again.

“You’re gonna eat me out?” she asks, voice rough, even as her fingers move idly across Furiosa’s scalp, down to clasp around her neck. Furiosa tugs at her nipple with her teeth. “Ah!”

“That what you want?” Furiosa’s voice is deep and rough, and she moves up, hand cupping Angharad’s face to drag her into another bruising kiss.

“Yes,” she breathes against Furiosa’s mouth, and the thought alone sending a vicious throb through her cunt. She moves to sit up, Furiosa’s fingers running down her spine like a shiver, and Angharad groans and slides her tongue back into Furiosa’s mouth to let her taste her want.

It doesn’t take long until she’s falling back against the heated metal of the car’s hood again as Furiosa’s mouth starts wandering south, dropping kiss after kiss against her jaw, humming softly against the delicate skin of her neck. She traces Angharad’s collarbone, lips catching the small droplets of sweat gathered there, tongue dipping into the hollow beneath her throat.

Her breasts are sensitive to Furiosa’s touch, nipples sore enough to be just on the right side of uncomfortable as Furiosa takes one into her mouth again while rolling the other gently between her fingertips.

Angharad finds purchase with her legs around Furiosa’s thighs, their groins pressed together, and she grinds up against her, seeking friction against her wet, hungry cunt as Furiosa licks and kisses her breast, her thumb slowly tracing the shallow curve of the other.

Angharad chokes on a moan as she finally, _finally_ , drops lower, her mouth working its way downward kiss by kiss like a promise, hot and insistent against her stomach, even through the bunched-up fabric of the dress. The whole world seems narrowed down to this moment; everything is heat and dampness, overlaid by the want bubbling and bursting like fireworks beneath her skin.

She feels Furiosa’s hand between her legs, brushing up against her as she touches herself through her jeans, pressing hard against where she’s just as wet with aroused as Angharad.

“Come on,” Angharad sighs, a hand on the back of Furiosa’s neck to urge her down where she wants her – _needs_ her. Furiosa answers with a sharp nip to her side.

“Impatient,” she remarks, but her smile, as she glances up at Angharad, is all tenderness.

“Well, my decoy sandwiches won’t last for ever – someone will come looking for us soon, wondering what we’re up too,” Angharad says, breathlessly. She closes her eyes as Furiosa runs her finger along the edge of her underwear, right where Angharad’s ticklishness turns into something much more… evocative.

“I don’t think anyone’s actually fooled,” Furiosa retorts and the only reason Angharad’s doesn’t reply is because Furiosa’s mouth suddenly lands on her clit without warning, tongue teasing roughly against it through her panties. The lace may be thin but it’s still not enough to do anything but get her hotter and she bucks against Furiosa with a groan that’s half pleasure, half frustration.

Furiosa pulls back, looking up at Angharad with hooded eyes. “Take off your panties,” she says, quietly, and Angharad hurries to comply, all but ripping the flimsy lace down her hips.

Furiosa’s hand cups her hip and she presses soft, lingering kisses against Angharad’s knee and inner thigh as Angharad scoots down and shuffles around until Furiosa can comfortably lean in and put her mouth on her. Her fingers dig into Angharad’s thigh and Angharad squeezes her eyes shut as Furiosa’s tongue play across the swollen folds of her cunt, lips dragging hot over sensitive flesh. Her fingers search uselessly for purchase against the hood of the car and the only thing that’s keeping her from just sliding right off is Furiosa’s hold on her as her body goes boneless for a moment.

Angharad’s back bows as Furiosa’s thumb slips into her and holds her open as her tongue pushes against her opening, the slippery soft pressure making her nerves tingle and fissure with pleasure. It slides all the way inside and Angharad’s mind goes blank as Furiosa fucks her like that, shallowly and teasingly and messily, but _so fucking good_ she can hardly breathe from it.

It feels like she can’t catch her breath again until Furiosa pulls out and moves up so suck a nasty kiss against her clit, tongue going out to slowly circle it. Angharad moans and shifts, as if her body is torn between pushing closer and away from her. The polished metal of the hood feels almost as scorching against her back as Furiosa’s mouth against her cunt, and it seems as if she’s melting away into the heat, as if it’s curled up deep within the pit of her stomach and devouring her from the inside out. She can feel Furiosa’s gaze on her even as her eyes remain closed, feel the weight of her eyes as they trace her arching body, the blush spreading rosy pink across her skin.

She comes and her hand grip the back of Furiosa’s neck again to hold her in place, to keep her from moving away and ever stopping the beautiful, wonderful work of her mouth and tongue, and she loses herself inside of it – the fire of it, Furiosa groaning against her and pulling her impossibly closer, the orgasms wrecking their way through her body and making her shake and moan until finally she has to wrest Furiosa’s face away from between her legs, as the pleasure turns raw.

Even the soft kisses Furiosa presses against the inside of her thighs is enough to make her quake as she lays panting and staring up at the ceiling, eyes lazily tracking the lines of the corrugated metal, sinking slowly back to earth.

“Come here,” she mumbles finally and reaches out a hand to Furiosa as she hoists herself up to sitting. Furiosa takes it and stands, immediately bending down to kiss Angharad full on the mouth, passing the taste of her between them.

“Come here,” Angharad whispers again, fingers eager and clumsy as they tear Furiosa’s pants open. Furiosa leans heavily against Angharad, panting loudly in her ear as her fingers steal inside her underwear where she’s warm and open, ready for her.

Furiosa’s forehead dips and presses against Angharad’s as Angharad slowly enters her with her fingers. She knows just how much Furiosa loves eating her out, but it’s as always a different thing entirely to feel the evidence of it. She had planned on teasing Furiosa right back, but all she wants now is having her clench and spasm around her fingers and watch that beautiful face distort as she comes, hard.

Angharad shoves her fingers upward a little roughly, knowing exactly what to seek for, and is rewarded with a deep groan. She keeps working that angle and somehow their mouths find each other again, clashing together wetly and clumsily and Angharad bites down on Furiosa’s lip against the quickly encroaching burn in her arm.

“Wanna see you come,” she murmurs and Furiosa glances up at her through her lashes, grinning through a heavy pant.

“You getting tired, love?” she mumbles and Angharad fucks into her harder in retaliation, reveling in the way Furiosa clenches her teeth at that, the way it makes her chest heave and her wide shoulders tremble.

It doesn’t take much more after that and Angharad slows her thrusts as Furiosa curses her way through her climax, but doesn’t stop until Furiosa’s fingers close around her wrist, stilling it.

“I have to get back to work sometime today,” Furiosa grits out, still chasing her breath, as Angharad makes a disappointed noise.

“Yeah,” Angharad says as she gently pulls her fingers out, wipes them on the rag still in Furiosa’s back pocket. “I should probably get some more studying in.” She grabs her panties and jumps down on wobbly legs from the car, using Furiosa as support as she pulls them back on and makes a face at the stickiness between her thighs. As if the sweating wasn’t enough. “And a shower,” she adds, wrinkling her nose.

Furiosa just laughs and leans over to give her a soft, lingering kiss. “I’ll see you at home,” she says, like a promise. “And thanks for lunch.”

“Always,” Angharad replies.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


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